Fracking with the Bendy Boundaries
by Quillon42
Summary: Can a certain Cyclops step up from his plummet into perdition, at the close of a most Atom-ic Battle, and make the supreme sacrifice? Can a certain Girl of Marvels step down from her compulsorily perpetual pedestal and reach her teammates with a most con-Jean-ial message for once, in Bendis's unbalanced universe? Can Angel finish a freaking sentence?
1. Chapter 1

(NB1: As with my Penultimate Polka story, I am breaking this story down into more chapters so it can really become more digestible in general. I am not adding anything to the story, and I apologize if you might have seen "Chapter Two" or "Chapter Three" in an email notification and thought I was adding stuff. (I'm pretty sure I'm not going to add any more rant material at the end either-the content of which I still stand passionately 100% behind, by the way.)).

(NB2: Just so everyone is clear (although I believe you can pick up who it is through the context): any references to a "Governor of Bendiana" or "Eunuch" and/or "(Uncle) Fester" and or anything "Bald" is a reference to none other than the inimitably insipid Brian Michael Bendis...and in case it isn't obvious from the text, I'm NOT a huge fan of him and the way he's fucked up some fundamental things about the Xers IMO. I know there are some implicit statements I make here on gender and religion. I am a white male Christian writing this story, by the way—and I have a lot to say about Bendis, as you can see here.)

FRACKING WITH THE BENDY BOUNDARIES

(With all apologies to Battlestar Galactica, regarding the first word of the title on here...there are no BG references in this story, by the way)

By Quillon42

PART ONE OF THREE

SOMETIME IN 2013 AT CAPE CITADEL, FLORIDA

Spirits were low and tensions high as the many cadres of mutants came together for this climactic, semicentennial clash at Cape Citadel…the place where the original Xers fought their first actual foe. Now, as it turned out, the arch enemy they were engaging was an insidious iteration of the Girl of Marvels, of whom most everyone in the myriad X-Teams was fond of and of whom they all fetishized.

And leading the charge against this Girl, curiously, was another likeness of the same lady, although ultimately she too was a falsity—at least in the eyes of this author.

The one who invented the events in this instance—the confounding charlatan known by the Machine's brass as the Governor of Bendiana—he claimed that this "Teen Jean" was the real deal, the genuine article, and not just some deviation on the dame. But this was just like Pierre Menard claiming that he really created the Quixote. (Look up Menard on Google…or just check out the Afterword to this story if you'd like).

While the Xorn-amented Jean of the Future was having it out with the First Five, the latter led by the former's Free-Love-Era counterpart, the world hung in the balance, the institutions of human civilization all suspended in their operations, standing still as they witnessed what would either be the beginning of the end of the Pre-Apocalypse, or just another fade into the cessation of another crappy day on Earth-616. As stated, the Jeans at this point were facing off, one a foot away from the other as flames and fragments of debris swirled all around.

Above those two Maria Hill, head commander of SHIELD (whose acronym meaning changed from like panel to panel…right now, meaning Safeguarding Heroes Impetuously Engaging Loathsome Dastards)…in her helicarrier she stood by, considering whether to send in more Sentinels, all homegrown courtesy of the country's Homeland Security resources.

Across town Naomi Wallace, president of NOW (the National Organization for Women) thought about whether to feature Miss Hill or Miss Grey (the youngest and arguably the most vexatious of the Jeans, that is) on the association's website.

In a neighboring county, Sarah McCann, the Chairwoman of the local chapter of the YMCA (Young Men's Christian Association) thought worriedly about the repercussions of Mr. Bendiana's upcoming edicts condemning the faith upon which the Chair's organization was founded. (But more on this later.)

Finally, across the state, Fifi Claudette, the Regent of GITLAW (Guys Into Tractorpulling, Lumberjacking, and Arm Wrestling)…she planned possible brackets for a prospective tractor/lumber/arm tourney for whichever individuals survived that conflict at Cape Citadel.

See, under the jurisdiction of the tyrannical eunuch known as the Governor of Bendiana…there was no man anymore who was permitted even to hold down a job, much less lead any kind of group whatsoever. …But what of certain supposed dudes in charge in this Battle-Atomic bash, such as James Logan Howlett and Scott Slim Summers, you ask?

…Oh, you must be referring to Tweedledipshit and Tweedledouche, respectively.

Yeah; even though these two once-great Xers were officially running their teams for the record, their bickering, bullying, and general all-around ineffectiveness rendered them more figurehead fuckups than leaders. When the chips were down, when the going got tough…this pair was always more about infight than insight, always more about ruckus rather than rescue.

In general here, genderwise, while Magik stood out in wrangling up the real X-Men from the future, and while Kitty and Rachel stood out in creating a diversion or three earlier on to get Teens Cyclops and Marvel Girl to an Uncannily Utopic island destination…the teams' males…sat on their asses on couches, or maybe were active in serving as organic battle scenery on some occasions, to be fair.

To consider and cover all bases, to boot, the contributions of one Present Day Hank McCoy, in bringing the original, five Sixties-Men to the present, had indeed stood out…but he was also considered by at least some to have committed a Mad-Scientist-"What have you done?!" atrocity, a move which nearly everyone concerned and affected had voted to be reversed through sending those crazy kids back to whence they came.

Basically, in another words, Hank fucked up just as much as Scott or Logan, and BOTA more or less turned entirely on cleaning up the mess one way or another.

But back to the Tweedle Twins: it was no problem, indeed, for Future Jean to indict the both of them for their supercilious Schism, then for her to brush them aside effortlessly, Logan and Scott soon languishing along the sidelines of the undoubtable main event between the Jeans. As we know well by now, the climax of the crisis culminated with Teen Grey psionically punching Xorn Grey to the point at which the later lady slunk into a slough of literal self-destruction. All the heroes cleared out just as the death's-head-masked redhead of the Future flared up in a most wretched of explosions. Yes, this was how it played out in the presently-sickening 616 reality.

But what if we stopped, rewinded, and considered an alternate possibility? One which, under the jurisdiction of the "good" Governor, would be unconscionable to the point of unprintability?

What if one of the aforesaid figurehead fuckups just…up and…did something significant, something critical, all on his own? Something actually not considered to be overly reckless or mad-scientisty?

In the reality which this author invites you to consider now, the Present Adult Scott, he gathered up his onyx-uniform ass just instants before Future Jean commenced to detonate. This Slim garnered the last of his strength in this moment, readied himself, then, just as…

"Goodbye, Jean Grey…and good luck."

…just as the Future Past J addressed the Past Past J by her first and last name, ever so talismanically like a _Peanuts_ cast member would address his or her crooked-black-lined-yellow-shirted leader…Today-Scott hurled his body out into space, and into this iteration of his first love.

He hurled himself out there, just as he did most nobly near the end of Inferno, to save his son from being blasted out of existence…he hurled himself out there, just as he did in the time of the Twelve, to interpolate himself between a most Apocaylptic ass from ancient times and a trendy, toolbox rendition of the abovementioned son…this Scott now performing the same, brave stunt of so long ago, to redeem himself implicitly, to literally throw himself out of the dozen-years slump his character had been in, to fulfill a sort of foreshadowing regarding his impending passing which this author was so certain would happen upon reading the first BOTA issue, when Sixties Scott was shot by a Sentinel head and the Twenty-Teens Scott of today flickered out of existence if only for a second.

At any rate, in this reality the Scott of Today tumbled into the Teen Jean of Tomorrow, threw off the latter's focus on fragmentation for a beat, reversed the polarity of the impending blast so that the man took the brunt of the explosion and so replaced the lady as the detonation's singular victim.

…Well, in truth, Scott would not be the only one to be blown up, as in that same instant, the Uncle Fester Fuck writing his story (meaning, the writer at the Machine—not this author) experienced just then the bursting of his barrenly bald head, all in disbelief at what his Tweedledouche had done.

...And actually, though Today Scott was indeed destroyed in the blast (to the momentary delight of his detractors), as a strange by-product of the essentially nuclear explosion...a second Scott emerged from it, though in suspended animation, to slumber underneath the grounds of Cape Citadel for at least another twenty-five years or so. Thoughts of the existence of this new, Future Scott flooded into the mind of Future Jean, and stood as the first images to enter into her head, after reeling from her near-suicide.

(And as contrived as all that sounds, in this author's efforts to establish a Future Scott after the Present one's death just now...it is submitted that said contrivance is only on par with the whole "Jean wasn't killed on the Moon, but was just sleeping on the bottom of Jamaica Bay all this time" device so many years back. In other words, suspended animation just as another day at the office).

On the field, anyway, the shaken, startled Future Jean was unceremoniously knocked for a loop by falling SHIELD Sentinel debris, as well as by neutralizing stun cannons from the Helicarrier, and the lady was taken into custody, just as the Present Day counterpart to her Slim soulmate was at the climax of the debacle with the Phoenix Five.

Days later, all the mutants were still mending in so many ways at the Jean Grey School. Students and alumni were endeavoring to get everything from their bones to their brains back in shape, they all really still reeling from the harrowing fifty-year-anniversary engagement that did not commemorate strong, sturdy allies and solid story arcs from yesteryear as it should have, but rather randomly threw together and vomited out random-ass speculations on future collaborations of the Xers.

One seemingly shining instant of the present, however, occurred when the O5s were endowed with enterprising new uniforms, to replace the old-school blue and gold (or black and gold, depending on the artist of the era) of Xavier's first class. It was a wonderful prospect to trade the darker shades for that of ivory white bordered by individualistic color-coding for each member…

…until they all actually decked themselves out and the present-day Xs looked upon them, trying ever so hard to efface a certain wayward free-associative thought before…

(…well, then a second later it became too late.)

Teen Jean's brow furrowed at Present Iceman as she picked up his errant thoughts. "What the fuck's _Voltron?_" she said, ever so eloquently, as per usual with her oral delivery now under the Barren Age of the Bald Eunuch.

The Bobby of Today threw his hands behind his back and hummed absently as he cast his gaze away from the light blue and dark blue and green and orange and red, one color lining each of the sides of the five all-new costumes ahead of him in his field of vision.

This left Pidg…er, Teen Jean fuming a bit in her newly-minted, spearminty duds—which was a good thing for her, because she would need all the edge she could get for the new mission which the recently-gone Governor, that Bendy Bastard, had charged her with in between issues of the All-New. In keeping with the mandates that her character become so boosted beyond mundanity and/or fallibility and/or conventional recognition altogether, Teen Grey was put upon to cultivate the hobby of curing all severe illnesses known to humankind—all while occupying herself with extreme physical feats at the same time, of course, all in the name of empowerment.

In other words, while Then-Bobby was checking out some of the latest, lamest next-gen video games…while Then-Warren was coming to terms with his Present-Day Pseudo-Hippie Self, and finding himself still unable to finish any sentences without someone cutting him off verbally or mind-controlling him…while Then-Scott was sitting at a desk in an X-Office, sulking childishly at his once-love's now-seemingly-unreturned affections…Then-Jean was at present devising an influenza vaccine of sorts while literally, physically wrestling a giant swamp reptile in the shallow end of the school's pool.

"Let's see," she muttered, contorting herself so she could configure her scaly opponent into a headlock of sorts, "I could take this subunit, and mix it with that conjugate…oh, but…fuckin' A…then I'll have to account for the intervening side effects of the latent toxoids I may well have to introduce later…"

As agitated as (probably) the reader by this science-speak, the animal in the Ex-Marvel-Girl's grip thrashed about, breaking the grapple-lock and nipping her briskly on the forearm as it did so.

This, of course, sent the utterly-even-tempered (again…of _course_) Teen J into a trifle bit more than a tizzy. Shoving aside her panacea ponderings for a second, she wrested the creature into her hands, then…

"How dare you, Crocodile?

"_HOW DARE YOU?!"_

…with all her might (or really, with a tenth of it now, with her Bendiana-bestowed strength) Teen Jean hurled the leathery horror away from her person, the poor thing flying across the length of the pool and skittering against the wall. Nothing was hurt within the croc, after this assault, other than its instinctual pride.

All of this was so bothersome to the young lady, after a fashion, so she decided to cool off with a comforting shower. Her endeavor in this, however, proved to be futile as, rounding a corner, she nearly slammed headlong into her own Future self once more (this time just a redhead, without the death's- head masking her beauteous features).

"The fuck are _you_ doing here," spat the Teeny J of the Past. She braced herself for another scrap, one which likely might be a bit more challenging than the one with the crocodile just now. "How the hell did they let _you_ out?!"

"(Sighhhhhh)…don't you know by now, Jean," said Later-Jean, "all the privileges that come with being you?...Or me?...Or…ahh, the eff.

"All I had to do was say the word—the name 'Jean Grey,' of course, yours and mine alike—and the resistance of legal authority parted for this redhead like the Red Sea."

All Teen Jean could do was stare back in unblinking disbelief.

"Anyway, yeah…I'm not here to fight. Just wanted to say that, despite the way I came off out there, at the Citadel and all…I again wish you well, and good luck. And I'm sorry it all went down like that. I'm not expecting to be forgiven, but for the record, I'm sorry about all that happened."

For her part, the greener Teen Jean (in costume and in experience alike) could only give the brusquest of nods in return.

"So…yeah, the Present Peoples are letting me go…see, I turned over a new leaf in the nineteen minutes I spent in the slammer. I'm going back to make my future a better place."

No reaction at all from the exhausted Teen at this.

"…and I'm also hooking up with Future Scott, in so many more ways than one."

"WHAT the _FU…_"

And then Future J swiftly yet softly threw a few fingers up to block her fresher self's swear.

"He's actually alive again, in the future. I can't fully explain right now. Anyway...the Present Scott's sacrifice back at the Cape made me stop. Made me realize what a good man he could be, at times…despite the fact that I never loved him in my continuity as much as the Traditional 616-Jean. I'm going back, for him…and for the hopeful growth of human-mutant relations, despite all the setbacks we've suffered before."

Future J then leaned in a bit, into her past self's wide-eyed gaze.

"You open your mind a bit," Later J continued closer and in a bit more of a whisper, "push it past the boundaries of the Bendis-Box…you'll understand. You can be in control of your own passions again. Your own motivations."

A thick beat. Then:

"I have to get around the Mansion and say the rest of my goodbyes, in any case…but perhaps I'll run into ya again, in a little bit, before I go for good."

And with that, the Future of Teen Jean Grey started off down the hall from which she came. Past Teen Jean just watched her older self walk off, and gritted her teeth in fluster.

_Bitch,_ the thought escaped her.

_Pidge,_ came the mental reply from her temporal counterpart as the latter was sauntering away.

(Honestly, no matter what time period someone came from…they all saw effing Voltron in those new All-New costumes).

But seriously…how dare that Future Jean even begin to suggest that any version of Scott have a romantic liaison with any iteration of Jean? This was the postmillennium now, after all.

Of course back in the day, before Y2K, the answer to anything in the X-Verse was "ScottAndJean."

Why is the sky blue? "ScottAndJean."

What makes the grass grow? "ScottAndJean."

Who is it that really powers the X-Franchise? "ScottAndJean."

Now, though, after the millennium…if anyone were to even begin to start to commence to attempt an endeavor of a try at phrasing that twelve-letter cuss, "ScottAndJean"—an utterance now far fouler than anything Past Teen Jean could ever articulate, with her present, Bendiana-butchered voice—the universal reply would be, for being brazen enough to bring the two up in the same phrase, "What're you…a fucking asshole?!"

END OF PART ONE OF THREE; TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 2

FRACKING WITH THE BENDY BOUNDARIES

By Quillon42

PART TWO OF THREE

At any rate, Past Teen Jean was by now done with her shower, and was staking out the grounds of the Mansion, seeking out anyone with errant, untoward thoughts.

Let us see…who could the intrepid, invasive ingénue target now…

Hmm…ah, there. The blond bomber who was one of the first to lay claim to her heart. The one who left the originals several issues back, but was visiting with the newest Uncannies in light of Future Teen Jean's departure. The one with wondrous wings who, at least now in this barf-inducing Bendianaverse, was more interested in what kind of seasonings would go with his French fries today than what his comely crimson-maned compatriot was doing on campus at the present moment.

Too bad for him, in this instance.

In the ensuing seconds, a telepathic command:

_You will not have honey mustard with your fries. Fuck. No._

Warren's face…entire head froze at this mandate. The young man's body shook in an attempt to shake the lady's literal head-games-hold on him.

_But, Jean…I…_

_No. I said no. You will have barbecue instead._

She moved in closer, pressed her fingers harder to her temples.

_Bar…be-fucking…cue. NOW._

The high-flying Angel, laid low in the brain by the other's orders, began to moving his hand against his will to the red-sauced cup at the edge of his tray, the cup which Teen Jean telekinetically jaunted over just now from the cafeteria counter.

As this was going on, another godmode like Teen Jean alighted from the mansion's courtyard, saw what was transpiring here.

She threw her pen and clipboard down.

"BAD TEEN JEAN!"

Teen J's attention shifted over abruptly to espy the hurrying over of one most Prydeful professor, her now perpetual ponytail swaying strenuously as she strode over to lay down down Mansion law. With Teen Jean, Kitty was the only one who could.

"Professor, I was just…"

"_BAD!"_

Then-Jean's face fell, and she looked ashamedly to the ground as the strident Shadowcat cast her arm out towards the window.

"I want you to march, young lady," Kitty said, motioning towards the b-ball playing field in particular, making the ex-Marvel Girl start to file out. Pryde called out after her as the latter went. "You just go out to the Jean Grey School(tm) basketball court, and go sit in the corner and think long and hard about what you just _DID!_"

Again, just as it took a thief to catch one…only a godmode could check the powers of another. Nothing less could possibly get the job done.

"All I wanted was to have honey mustard with my food…for once," explained Warren as Kitty stood behind to console him. "I don't see why I have to…"

"Warren…just take it easy."

_[Bendiana Laugh Track: HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA…] _

The woozy Worthington tried again. Tried to finish a fucking sentence. Again, for once.

"She was…Jean has it in her mind that barbecue is coded for redhead desire, and that honey mustard means feelings for blondes…that's why she…"

"I know, Warren; please just try to relax now."

_[Bendiana Laugh Track: HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA…] _

One more try. Warren:

"I'm really hoping that my time with the Uncanny…"

"Hey, Warry, can we talk later? I honestly want to know about how you're doing…but I need to tend to some other things in the meantime. I'll get in touch with ya soon!"

_[Bendiana Laugh Track: HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA…]_

And then Kitty was off.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Yes, dear reader; wasn't it always so funny, seeing Warren's sentences get cut off, and watching him get mind-controlled, every time he tried to forward an individualistic idea? Whatever it took to make nearly all, if not all the guys in Bendisland into complete jokes.

Out in front of the Mansion, the 'Women and 'Men of the X of the Present (and Past, minus that most matronly J) were bidding a bittersweet farewell to Future Teen Jean, who was at one juncture very threatening and frightening…but a short stretch in the calaboose (again, of a whopping twenty minutes or so), in addition to a therapeutic healing session with Christopher Muse, had made the lady breathe so much easier—literally, regarding the need for her "She So Xorny" skull mask, and otherwise.

"So you're really gonna go looking for this...suspended animation Future Scott when you get back, huh," said Rachel, offering a hand in peace to her fellow woman from an alternate tomorrow (another alternate tomorrow from Ray's, that is).

"Yepper. I'm looking forward to it. I've got a feeling, too…the winds're gonna change around here. I think we're all gonna wake up to what's…_who's_ been the real threat around here…for you guys in particular, for the last year and few months or so."

This last left the Today-Xers with quizzical looks on their faces, as they wondered who could possibly be more evil, more heinous than the cruel, corrupt forces they encountered these last several issues. Before most of those interested in finding out could raise the question, though…

…a more pressing matter needed to be addressed.

"_Yer_ really gonna get back with _Slim?_ After all he's done…all he's been these years?!"

"Oh…Logan…" Later Jean peered at the ground, feeling somewhat bad for the petite psychopath. "If it makes you feel any better…just like the Scott you've known for so long…I managed to sort…get around, myself, with a few fortunate people in the last few decades."

At this the blades of one of the wearying W's claws sprung out, most Freudianically. So there was a chance for him, with her, in the future…

Almost immediately, though, broadcasting into his mind: _No, sorry, hon. Wasn't referring to you, in saying that. _

_Remember what I said in the BOTA final battle, about my crying at your funeral? Yeah…that kind of sort of happens in like 2017…when you're done in, pretty abruptly…_

…_by a rage-infected Doop._

The claw instantly retracted at this. (Actually, kind of more like "deflated").

And so, just as the main X-Teams in the Nineties were split terribly into factions of azure and auric, it was the case here that Logan now developed two huge, blue counterparts to the golden spheres which Fabio Medina of Scott's group could himself manifest.

At the far end of the basketball court, Later Jean's confounded, drained counterpart of the past floated in a miasma of fury and frustration that was of her own making.

Or was it?

_I let myself, and all of humanity, down when I dropped the ball on that ebola cure, _she berated herself. _But I was too busy body-slamming that Komodo Dragon…to remember to "carry the one" on my calculations…_

_…You know, why; why am I being made to do all this?!_

As the gorgeous garnet-maned girl foundered, a fountain of tears sprang forth from her vivid, viridian eyes.

_I was never forced to…rassle reptiles while devising vaccines back in the Sixties!_ Teen J didn't even bother stemming the flood falling from her beautiful eyes as she seized up with her terrible jag of lachyromosity. _Why the fuck does it have to be this way, here? Why the fuck am I charged with doing all this, all on my own…_

…_why the FUCK do I have FUCKING _**_CUSS_**_ all the time anymore?!_

She imagined herself in an even more capital of a claustrophobic crisis than Ororo could ever conceive or fear. Teen Jean was not alongside that "timecube," but rather inside of it…on each of its faces, the images of a strand of a known incurable disease, a picture of a ferocious lizard, and the writing of an obligation otherwise that she had to fulfill in this All-New Era. She could visualize the walls of the cube converging in on her.

She could envision the borders of this…box closing in on her…

…

…wait.

That was it.

She balled her hands briskly into fists, knowing full well now who was to blame for all of this.

Back in front of the School, Future Jean was helping Kitty finish up her packages of food to go out to all the Post-Soviet States. Shadowcat would be less than a shadow of her go-getting, godmode self if she weren't acting the part of the Governor's gift to the multiverse every other second.

"So…" she began, gratefully taking a box of cereal from the Later J, "Scott, then."

"Yes, Kitty." Later Jean's face was still very weathered and worn, and she was still exhausted. What she had to look forward to, in the future, wasn't going to be the be-all and end-all, by any means…but it would be a new beginning, a nice, new start with potential for love. None of this miserable nihilism and destruction otherwise.

"Cyke's a…a…pretty good, well…okay guy, years from now?"

"I've been receiving signals in my mind, over the past day or so, as to how this new, Later Scott will be…He's not perfect by any means, Professor Pryde. But he never gives up, I tell ya. Last I heard from him in the future, an hour ago or so, he was going out into space, along with the others in his family—Alex, Gabriel, Chris his Dad, Phillip his Granddad—and apropos with the way his facemask has looked for quite a while, they all went to Play the Feud out on Pluto—which is a planet again, by the way, at least in my time. …Kind of like how Logan and Quentin in your time went up into orbit to gamble to raise funds…it's the only way in my time that men can get any kind of money. All they can do is go on game shows in outer space for prizes. …They certainly can't get jobs."

Kitty's attention was piqued at this. "Hmm. Well…You think he's…that he's…you know, seeing anyone, up there?"

"Oh...from the details I'm receiving...he's been celibate for quite a while. This version of Scott is not like the one most people know, who's had only fifty-three seconds of singlehood between girlfriends, as you know it was like a picoinstant between the Phoenix clone and Madelyne, and then it was basically a nanomoment that passed between my Present Day Self of the White Hot Room and…"

"I _know._"

Pryde shot Later Grey a sharp look, and the latter quieted as she knew the former didn't want even the blonde bother's name to be mentioned.

It was just as well; Future Jean relished the silence to imagine what it would be like when this new, Future Scott would get back from the Feud fling with his fam. She imagined accepting the man into his arms, after denying the concept of embracing Scott Summers for so long…imagined, if a bit strangely, him opening his eyes innocently, and having tiny squirts of his optic blasts break the chains that bound her torso…could feel his ocular emissions playing in brilliant little splashes of warmth amidst her chest, certainly not to harm but to tingle most sensuously…then feel his manly hands relieve her of that Wonderbra that the fool Fantomex carped had imprisoned the bounty of her body for so long.

(Well, really the Froglegs Frenchy bust the chops of the Present White Hot Jean, and not the Future one, on that detail…but he was right about that redhead, and the case was the same with this one. Of course, Future J knew full well of the tighty whities on Scotty that complemented her constricting brassiere…

…not to mention the triple-layered bevy of Wonderbras that perched atop the pectorals of Charlie Cluster Jean-Phillippe himself, underneath his white, trite costume. It certainly took one (or three of them, in this case) to know one.)

"I just want people here to know…that I'm sorry," Later J went on as Kitty insistently shook her head at the lady. "I shouldn't have caused trouble…

"Don't be crazy, Jean. Things just get…out of whack sometimes; we all know that."

"No, no. It was really on me; it was all my fault…"

"NO…

Future Jean's Helenlike head turned abruptly at the sound of her past counterpart's shouting.

"…IT'S ALL EUNUCH FESTER'S FAULT!"

Everyone crowded around the School's front lawn now—they all originally convocating to see Future Jean off, to watch her catch up with the others from her time who had already left the day before. Now, though, it was the case that the jaunty J's younger self was upstaging her.

And the Jean from Further Along just leaned relaxedly against a pillar, crossing her arms and not minding a bit. Teen Jean waved her arms as her Original, tender teammates gathered around now…then the Uncanny Utopians…then finally the languid Loganites.

"Hey…HEY! Everyone…you all need to come together now…and listen to me.

"You think the Future Brotherhood as Faux X-Men of the Future was a doozy. The truth is, we've all been existing in a warped version of the reality you once knew. Everything has been stricken out of balance…and if we don't work together, pool our talents right now…we'll all keep on being off kilter like the way we are.

"I, for one, started to get a feeling after the fashion—really, this went back a few weeks for me now—that even though I might be meant for some great things, with my psionic abilities…I never imagined, and I don't believe now, that curing every disease known to man, and grappling with every descendant known from dinosaurs, was really to be my destiny."

Teen Jean stopped to take a breath as she gazed at the crowd, all its people gazing back at her in the usual abject awe that was of course always due in the wake of redhead reverence at the Mansion. She went on.

"You see…I was just doing some thinking, just now, over there…some real, introspective contemplating…and it opened my mind. I thought past what's been pushing down on me all these months. I got myself out of this…" and she looked over to her Future Self as she started this next phrase, "_…box_ into which I was placed all this time."

The Later Jean nodded back in approval, grateful that her younger self finally saw the light—and even more brightly than she did, it seemed. Teen J, once more: "I mean, look at us. What's wrong is not that we, the First Five of us, don't belong here anymore…it's not the Who, but the How.

"The Me of Much Later helped myself to open my eyes to this…as did the Present Scott's noble sacrifice, back at the end of BOTA. And there was one other thing…something that I saw, in my mind's eye, regarding what happens in my Later Self's later-on.

"I've seen the future, people—and it isn't pretty. Shortly after the assassination of Alison Blaire, this…Spider Claw God comes down, destroys everything. But what not even the Later Me knows is…I've witnessed several permutations, of this moment and the years leading up to it.

"It all happens because of the imbalances—and because of the Bald Bastard who's behind all of this! …And no, I'm not talking about Charles, of then, or later.

"The fact is: this yuck of a Eunuch, he's got the scales of strength between X-Ladies and X-Gents far too askew. Any imbalance between female and male heroes will make for certain doom. The reality of it is…if no one but men run things, now and later…the Spider Claw God will come down and destroy.

"But if only women run things, again now and later…the Spider Claw God will come down then also.

"It's only if we all work _together_—and share the power and the pressures, and the roles, as men and women, that we can continue to flourish—and then not only Alison, but also everyone, mutant and human alike, will continue to survive, and even thrive."

All the Xers looked from one to the other, completely bewildered, their Bendiana-brainwashed selves unable to grasp the full gravity of Teen Jean's admonitions.

(Neither could they grasp, parenthetically, the concept of a god existing that could actually be more threatening and frightening as that headily-horrific anathema known as Jesus Christ. Because goodness knows that Mr. Bendiana could wax grandiloquently through Kitty about the oppression of Jewish people (the empowerment of whom this author completely supports)—then, issues later, utterly and recklessly _shit_ all over Christianity by having the All-New Xs come right off of BOTA to face Jesus freaks).

"We're all living in the demented dream of a real cad of a cueballhead—and again, I'm not talking about Xavier. From what I've heard and seen, even David Haller couldn't come up with a worse distortion of reality than this.

"We're living, indeed, not in the Age of X, my friends…but in the Age from Heck. And that's right—Heck. For once, I didn't curse. I actually—didn't—flipping—curse.

"Warren," she called, walking over to the edge of the crowd and zooming in on her Original Peer. "I know if you focus, you can do it. You can break these shackles too. I want you to do it. I know you can."

The Angel looked askance at his beloved X-belle for a second; then he understood. He took a deep breath, then parted his lips.

"I…" He stopped a second, looked around, afraid. A firm nod from Teen Jean spurred him on.

"I think I would like…to…take a…nice…"

Then-Jean squeezed a fist tightly, not in anger but in encouragement. _Come on…_

The angelic aviator balled both his own hands in turn, in fierce determination.

Summoned all the strength he possibly could.

And then, miraculously, almost a minute later…

"I would like to…to take a NICE FLY TODAY!"

And with that, the man sprung up into the air, spreading his wings and doing the deed.

"WAHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Tears erupted from Teen Jean's eyes once more, but this time in an overwealth of joy, as she and the others, all applauding furiously, witnessed it…witnessed Warren Worthington—actually finishing a sentence once again!

It was enough to make even this author's jaw drop. It boggled the mind: Angel, actually completing a thought mentally or verbally, without being cut off or mind-controlled!

Holy _SHIT!_

Teen Jean jumped up and down excitedly, in spite of herself and in spite of what the Bastard of Bendiana wanted for her. For too long, this world had been crammed with more of his Bald Bullshit than a Punch-Out port-a-john.

(Nevermind.)

END OF PART TWO OF THREE; TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Chapter 3

FRACKING WITH THE BENDY BOUNDARIES

By Quillon42

PART THREE OF THREE

"You see?" she shouted happily over all the din, encouraging everyone to calm down and listen again. When the clamor ceased: "You see? We can all break from this. We can all…be something closer to what we once were, once more…and that's not necessarily a bad thing.

"I know we're all about change…but sometimes change is decidedly for the worse. Change that is too off-base, that makes us into something sick, and tipped too far one way.

"I can't believe I'm…freaking doing this," Teen Jean went on, smiling graciously and pausing an instant to congratulate herself on not cursing once again, "but I'm going to quote someone who is one of the worst, most egregious examples of mangled mutantdom, for all of her lack of responsibility. Yes, of course I'm talking about none other than the Mutant Messiah. Please bear with me on this a second, as this is…for lack of a better person to quote.

"She once told her fellow Lights, 'We have to be better.' That's it. For quoting even that much, I promise to wash my mouth out later on with X-cubed quantities of gargle.

"But yeah, anyway…we all have to be better. And each of us needs to be equally important. For that reason…"

Teen J then trounced everyone's expectations, as well as the sense of having seen everything, as waving a hand, she went and caused each of the statues of herself, all around the greens of the Mansion, to topple thrashingly. In the ensuing seconds the walkways were splattered all over with pieces of plaster Jean.

"I, Teen Jean Grey, kind of sort of after whom this School was renamed…hereby submit my request that the School's name be changed again. I vote specifically that it be named—in tribute to someone who is actually also responsible for this reality, (though someone not necessarily much more savory than the Boorish Baldness)…the X-Celsior School!"

Her face kept nicely in a satisfied smile, Teen Jean was a bit chagrined a second later to find everyone murmuring amongst themselves at how awful this name was.

Then: "Alright, alright, we can work on it later. But anyway, yeah…I want us all to share the spotlight, because that's where we should all be.

"Even you…Emma."

This last phrase came much later, about thirty-five minutes on to be exact, while everyone congregated conversed amongst themselves and said their goodbyes to Future Jean.

"Oh…'even me,' is it?"

"Emma…I don't want we should fight anymore. We're all on the same side. I don't know about you…but I'm absolutely sick of all the rivalries around here.

"And I'm also sure you're sick of being a joke."

The once-White Queen's face scrunched up something furious at this; but before she could say or do anything…

"The message boards don't lie, Emma. You know that. You could be stronger without all this… petty crap between us. It doesn't have to be a competition anymore. …Hell, Present Scott's dead now, right? There's nothing to fight over."

(A lot of readers, of course, would posit that even with Present Scott being alive between any Jean and any Emma, there would still be "nothing to fight over" anyway…but anyway).

"Come on, Emma. You're better than this."

The diamond damsel glared at Jean in response, at first. Then she just stared, thought about the other woman's words.

Then she extended a hand to match the olive branch of a palm that Teen Jean put out there in turn.

Then she pulled the younger Jean in for a hearty embrace.

"Oh, Spider Claw God!" Frost blurted, the tears running from her eyes. "I'm so fucking sick of it all, too…sick of all of what's been between us. I know I can be so much more…"

"You can be, Emma. In fact…if you can believe it…if it comes around again that we fall into our old habits, of putting certain X-Ladies on pedestals…I'll be rooting for you to be the leading lady around here—even over me. I'm stepping down from it, because I'm tired of it. I'm retiring from the demigoddess docket. You can see all the statues lying around fragmented, as testament to that.

"I mean, probably no one else around here would agree, honestly…but I think you have what it takes to be the literal diamond jewel in everyone's eye. Even I think it's time for a break from the reign of redhead terror going on, on this campus and in all X-Places."

All Miss Frost could do at this suggestion was smile more widely than the oceans that swallowed effin' Atlantis. The very thought of this, on her own as well, made the lady think of her backup beau, down there beneath those waves, and how she really should be getting to him now that her old Present-Day prune-faced paramour was deceased.

Indeed, all this was possible now—all this peace and harmony—all because the Xers finally figured out who was running…was _ruining_ their reality—and they started to turn it all around.

Because when it came down to it, anyone could create better material in bending for a B.M. than B.M. Bendis could in creating any of his travestories.

And indeed, as Emma squeezed Teen Jean's arm, then abruptly walked off to plan such an undersea excursion, the other, Marvelous Girl decided to keep the ball rolling on better storymaking by going to find the man whom she herself really wanted to reconnect with.

_Scott,_ she mouthed mentally, garnering the gent's attention as he turned.

_Scott…get yourself the heck over here._

Cyke skulked over at his lady's command, an imperative which stood at the opposite pole from "Leave me the hell alone" from a while back.

_Jean…I thought your speech was beautif…_

And then his thoughts seceded back into a baffled brain as his peer jumped into his arms and started polishing his esophagus with her tongue.

Ten minutes later, when she finally broke the kiss—but still holding him—

_Scott…I'm so sorry. For everything._

_Jean, no…it's me. I'm sorry. Ever since we've gotten here, I've been nothing but sissy fits, at what's been going on…_

_…And I've been all hissy fits. Scott, I don't want us to be like this. I want us to be together. I'm sick of the idea of us, in any time period, being kept apart for the sake of being kept apart, just because it's something "different" for some audience out there. Kind of like I said earlier…the heck with change, at least in this case._

The face of the man addressed crumpled in a tender sort of catharsis. _You've always been my best friend…_

_You know what, I'll do it once more—I'll cuss just one more time—and then I'll stop, forever. FUCK "best friends."_

Again with her tongue tracing the texture of his tonsils.

_We're so much superhumanly more than that,_ she thought quietly to Scott as they continued to tonguewrestle.

They then looked warmly from eye to spectacle.

_I know you, Scott. I know you would never, after what we've been through here, go for any kind of…skank like Silver Boo…_

_No, I wouldn't._

Teen Jean blinked at him.

_I only want my Ruby Boobs._

She smiled, more naturally and relaxedly than she had in an eternity.

_You want your Ruby Boobs?_

Teen Scott nodded readily._ I want my Ruby Boobies._

His lady love pulled him in close. _You want…welllllllll, my good man…*I* want my little Tykeclops to…come out and play, for a nice, loooooong while._

_Oh, but he's not a Tykeclops,_ Scott protested playfully through his brain. _He's more of a…Titanclops…_

Teen Jean snickered at this. After a little beat: _I gotta say…he's more of a Tykeclops. Sorry._

Teen Scott barely had time to shake his head in humorous incredulity as his lover leaned in again for another kiss.

_You and I're gonna make babies, Teen Jean…our first one will be named Peppermint Pidge…_

_…and the next few will be all named Survey Scoreboard Scott, you Family-Feud-faced effer! _

_Hey!_ Scott said, through his head, _that's the Later Me…!_

_It's close the eff enough._

And so they went on, kissing, getting back together, and getting together further on in much more intimate ways…

…as their counterparts in the Future too coalesced in kind as well. Future Scott was overabundantly pleased to be with Future Jean, this Jean who was the most precious of all in her imperfection. Because while Past Teen Jean, at least at one time in her life, worked to cure every disease, and while Kitty worked to end world hunger, and while the miserable Mutant Messiah worked to attain intergalactic peace (yes, of all people…this was the calling of Cable's completely of-course-sufferable pseudodaughter)…Future Jean, she _fucked up,_ and she _fucked up,_ and she _fucked up,_ and Future Scott adored that about her because, given his own history, he could so well relate to and connect with it. Indeed, especially given one of the panels toward the end of BOTA (the one right before Present Scott said, "You just really screwed yourself")…Later Jean came off more Ma Fratelli than the Mother Figure that some version of her was in the past…but again, Later Scott was alright with that, as he'd been there before himself as well. But anyway, these two came together also…

…and to complete this author's second-place OTP trifecta…for his sacrifice after the main BOTA bout, Present Scott ascended to the Heavens, not unlike a mutant-kin of Kenny McCormick at the close of a Longer and Uncut production, to be received most warmly and passionately by his own Present-Jean analogue lover…and together the Scott and Jean of today turned the White Hot Room all red with randy rapture.

END OF PART THREE OF THREE

AFTERWORD

This is going to go on for a while; the story is over, just so you know, so if you'd like, you can stick around but of course you do not have to do so. I'm just trying to explain some of the implicit statements I've made here in terms of gender and religion.

Before I go off on the major rant here, let me explain the "Pierre Menard" reference near the beginning. There is a Latin American author from the early to mid-twentieth century named Jorge Luis Borges, who wrote a short story called "Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote." It's about this pretty brazen writer named, well, Pierre Menard who claims that he is not so much making a new edition of Don Quixote-that old Spanish mock epic/satire from centuries past-but rather he is writing the Quixote himself, taking authorship over the character. It's not a reboot, or a remake, or anything-he's writing THE Quixote. This, I feel, is just like Bendis's own brashness in his claiming to be writing "the" Jean in his awful All-New issues. He's said in interviews, like, "oh, no, it's not an alternate reality Jean-it's THE Jean." While he might technically be right insofar as, yes, it is THE Jean from the Sixties, I maintain it's presumptuous of him to hijack the character, deck her out with a new attitude (and I DON'T mean that in a Patti-Labelle-positive kind of way)-a new, terrible and bullying attitude, IMO-and call it THE Jean, call it the Jean that so many readers have known and loved for fifty fucking years now. IMO, as an old-school fan of the franchise, what Bendis has done with the character has been a travesty, and I know I'm not alone in thinking/feeling this. I will go more into this in a few paragraphs; please just hear me out on this.

It's said that the Menard story goes into themes of authorship, as to who's really responsible for creating THE character we see on the page. Of course, that's a MAJOR, MAJOR issue in comic books-one of the biggest issues we face. You KNOW you might love Wheedon's Cyclops, but hate Fraction's; you might love Peter David's Havok, but hate Howard Mackie's...I personally have always loved Claremont's and only Claremont's Madelyne Pryor, (and I don't swear by Claremont on everything-but I do stand by him on Maddy)...I love Claremont's Maddy by far the most because he's about the only writer-other than, to be fair, Mackie to an extent in Mutant X...as much as my Illin' story makes fun of Mackie-but anyway, Claremont's nearly the only author who makes Madelyne human and sympathetic, at least sometimes. As far as I'm concerned, Madelyne hasn't really been "alive" since Inferno, or even Fall of the Mutants/the Outback years, with the exception of X-Men: The End where she made a very sympathetic comeback near the close of the miniseries. All the writers since Claremont (except Mackie, again to be fair) have just made her into a monster at best and an Austin Powers fembot at worst. And guess which bald-ass emeffer of a Marvel writer was at least partially responsible for the fembot side of her, during AVX? I'll give you a hint: I KIND of mentioned him, like, just a couple (hundred) times throughout the last few chapters.

In any case, I would like to get to the main rant here. If anyone reading this has read other stories of mine on here, he or she knows that I'm all about empowerment of females and males alike. One "Interword" (as in, commentary between chapters) that addresses what I'm about to address here in part is that of the first chapter of Amends story ("Amends in the Abyss"), so not to plug shamelessly but if you'd like to check that out, that would be cool.

I'm all for strong heroines generally, as long as one or both of two things don't happen: 1) said heroine becomes overpowered to the point of losing certain aspects of her personality or character that make her likeable (hear me out on this), and/or (usually "and") 2) heroes (males) are not thrown under the bus in being made to be overly, farcically weak or ineffective in the wake of female empowerment. I feel that Bendis is very guilty of both of these in his writing. As I mentioned in my Amends Chapter One Interword, he's what I call a Prick Charming in his writing: he's really nice to the ladies, but treats at least some of the guys like crap, at least in relative comparison to how the ladies are treated. Some of the girls/women are made to be Godmode Sues, like Kitty and very arguably Teen Jean and (crossing myself) Hope Summers (crossing myself again). In the wake of this strength, you have ineffectiveness and weakness on the part of at least some of the men, very notably leaders like Logan and Scott. You CANNOT read the end of BOTA and tell me that they are not represented as Tweedledee and Tweedledum there, with the way they just argue and are just effortlessly tossed aside. I am NOT saying that women should not be at the front lines; of course they should. I am just saying that the endgame of BOTA, with Sixties Jean versus Future Jean in the foreground, and Maria Hill hanging in the background, all three powerful, just cancels out any considerable male presence, and it's a sign of the times that male heroes' power is being diminished to an unreasonable extent, and things should be more balanced between the genders. I will argue this now through BOTA, to an extent through AVX (and I know Scott's at the climax there, but I will make a distinction from BOTA to defend my argument), and also moving away a second to The Hunger Games as well, to argue that this phenomenon, of imbalance between gender unreasonably swinging the other way, to the other extreme, goes into other forms of entertainment media as well.

First, as again I said at the end of my first chapter of Amends (and that, I swear will be the last time I'll reference that story here), one thing that infuriates me about what Bendis is doing with Teen Jean in particular is that, in an effort to empower the character, he has given her this overly-obnoxious makeover that makes her character insufferable IMO. It's one thing to make someone stronger, tougher, more assertive. This Jean, though has come off as a bitchy bully for so much of ANXM, and it doesn't have to be that way. I am NOT NOT NOT saying that she should be the Mary Sue sweetheart that she was in the Sixties; however, to go to the other extreme and make her the balls-stomping steamroller of a character that she is...it makes her character suffer just as much. To be fair, Bendis has unfairly fucked with at least a couple of characters here, and made them into "bitches": Scott is as much of a whiner "bitch" now as Jean is a bully "bitch" IMO. (Scott had his fair share of whining back in the day also, but anyway). I reflected that in the story by mentioning Scott's "sissy fits" and Jean's "hissy fits"; I try to balance out faults between genders as much as I can, to be as fair as possible. I'm just saying that, as has been done in the Nineties or Eighties, one can make a character strong but also fun, and likeable, and Teen Jean is NOT that in my opinion. She has NO sense of humor, and not quite enough sensitivity; now, I changed my opinion, and softened on her slightly, in that first "Trial of Jean Grey" ANXM issue just now, where she is seen crying when the alarms go off, or whatever kind of notification it was; that influenced my story just now to make her cry there also (on the basketball court) and make her sympathetic. This whole story tries its best to break the fourth wall and have the characters realize, "What the eff, I'm not supposed to be a bully like this" etc. Look, I KNOW that Teen Jean has been through a lot; she's seen her future, and she is understandably upset at the ideas of dying several times and having Scott hurt her and everything. It doesn't excuse her treating him like shit, though. And I KNOW what some are thinking, "Well, she's just a kid/teen, and she's just going through tough emotions the way a teen does," but that's no excuse IMO, and in fact it's a copout. I do not have to have Teen Jean get back with Teen Scott (although I like them as my second-place OTP); however, I maintain that her character's toughness can still be tempered with some sensitivity (without making her into a Sue) and humor (without making her into a joke). I feel that the thesis of this story, put another way, can be reflected in a quote of Future Jean at the end of BOTA: "Look upon your precious Jean Grey!" In the same bad way, but here in my story with Teen Jean instead: "Look upon your precious Teen Jean Grey, who has been warped by Eunuch Fester Bendiana into a bullying, spiteful, unnecessary mutilation of what she once was!"

What also makes me angry about what Bendis is doing in ANXM is that he ever so conveniently "opens the door" to Teen Jean's lashing out by making guys like Teen Scott and Teen Hank all petty in their whining. Again, this is the whole Prick Charming thing, in which he makes the male characters look like assholes and then, because the "door is opened" through their acting like assholes, the female characters become justified in lashing out against them. How convenient. Bendis's crappy fucking with the characters here, in other words, really arrives through a tag team effort: Scott and Hank act petty, and then this gives Jean license to lash out at them, and then she becomes justified and sympathetic in it; what's really objectionable IMO is that yes, it makes Jean look bad for yelling at a guy, but it makes the guy look EVEN WORSE for setting off the whole thing with his thoughts. This applies to Scott or Hank, at least, if not others. For an overt example, look at the ANXM issue just now when Jean sits down to lunch with Scott and Warren, and Scott necessarily has to "think judgmental shit" about Jean to bring about an argument. Again, how convenient, Eunuch Fester. So basically what ends up happening here now is that Bendis makes Scott and/or Hank unlikeable through their weak whining and judging her, rather than make Scott and Hank nobler in their thoughts; in turn, Jean becomes unlikeable through her bitching them out. It's bullshit, and it's not where any of these characters need to be, male or female.

Teen Jean's rampant unlikeability, IMO, is JUST like Hope in AVX, where she's on the front lines, and in fact she's the main hero(ine) of the story; because of this, she should have the accountability of someone on the front lines...yet she can shit all over everybody and get away with it, because she's playing several cards at once. Specifically, she's playing the "rebellious youth" card, she's playing the "Mutant Messiah" card, and she's frankly playing the "female empowerment" card, which entitles her to kick as much the shit out of Scott as she wants and get away with it completely. Honestly, Hope has thrown around more metaphorical "cards" than Gambit has thrown literal ones in his entire fucking superhero career. Anyone who has read several of my stories knows that I have called out Hope on the accountability issue, and the fact that she can do all this is fucking bullshit (meaning "objectionable" and not "untrue"); in fact, I would daresay that Hope is not a true superhero(ine), because, well as Peter Parker himself says, "With great power, comes great responsibility"...yet Hope doesn't take responsibility for _shit_, or at least she didn't in AVX. Therefore, she's not a true superhero. (And to be fair, again, there are male characters without accountability whom I believe not to be true superheroes, either).

I will also say parenthetically that the dynamic of AVX in general was bullshit, along the gender lines. Someone once said on a forum, very succinctly, that the basic thrust of the Dark Phoenix Saga was-and I'm paraphrasing here-"Oh, you slaughtered countless billions because it was fun? Well, as long as you're sorry. Gee, your hair smells nice." In other words, Jean's being possessed by the Phoenix Force, and her eventual death, was some sort of sympathetic tragedy, and she was treated as a victim even though she did wipe out an entire star system. With AVX, though, the Phoenix dumps its power on the Five, and then-how conveniently for the narrative-it all just falls into the hands of Scott-the hero who's been shit on consistently for the last dozen years literally since Morrison-and he becomes a traitor/tyrant to humankind, and the asshole "wall" to be knocked down by the empowered heroine. In short, Jean as Phoenix=tragic figure who has to be heartrendingly stopped; Scott as Phoenix=traitorous fuckup (or tyrannical fuckup) who has to be put down like a fucking dog. Again, the chorus repeats: it's bullshit.

Someone could say also, you know: "Who really cares, man? It's just comic books and stuff." Well, this dynamic has been happening in other contexts too-this double standard between treatment of men and women in science fiction and otherwise-and the first installment of Hunger Games is another example. This also goes into imbalances in race, here, so I will tread lightly, but I will still tread. Collins's story (which parenthetically rips off so many other stories off the bat) features a strong heroine in Katniss, okay (although I don't see her as entirely likeable either...maybe I'll get more into this character later). Almost every other character comes off as either seriously flawed, or underrepresented/shunted into obscurity in the story. At home, Gale is a likeable guy, with no serious flaws, but he's the significant other left at home who doesn't even get to participate in the real meat of the story. Peeta comes off as strong in the chariot at the opening ceremonies; then, in the games themselves...(SPOILER WARNING) he hides, he gets sick, and he gets taken hostage. If you had a story wherein the male hero did all the asskicking, and the female lead just hid, got sick, and got taken hostage, that story would be called out as being sexist. NOW, I understand that there are a TON of macho films from the Nineties and Eighties and all in which there is a tough guy, and then a girl who gets kidnapped and everything. But is it really that much better to have it just swing the other way, genderwise? Why not have BOTH the hero and heroine kick ass? What the fuck is wrong with _that?!_ I understand the story wanted to focus on Katniss, but making Peeta into a weakling like that, to that extreme, was fucking bullshit, and IMO it's no better than the macho tough guy films of yesteryear. Two wrongs do not make a fucking right.

I'm not going to hit every character, but just a couple more, at least for right now: you then have Haymitch, who is Woody Harrelson's character. With him, he's a decent mentor for a good part of the story, but of course the first impression of him that you get, he necessarily has to come off as a roaring fucking drunk. Again, if you had a male hero, and a female mentor who was a lush, it would be called out as being sexist. It wasn't necessary to have Haymitch be a drunk like that, and for Collins to have done that was bullshit. Lastly, and again I will tread lightly here, Cinna (Lenny Kravitz's character) was treated well; however, that is qualified because-and I will say this very delicately-he pertained to a demographic that Collins was pandering to, in terms of race, for sales. There is a movie review of Hunger Games by a female reviewer named Jane Carlson (on Yahoo, yes...but it's still out there) who calls Cinna's character out as being a product of "shameless racial pandering," so I'm not alone in this belief. Collins panders to all nonmajority identities up the ass in Hunger Games, and meanwhile any white male identities are treated much less favorably, or at least seriously flawed. Whether on the same side of the gender line or not, there is racial imbalance. Again spoilers: the blonde girl Glimmer gets BUTCHERED by wasps, and no one gives a shit (of course, because she's a bad guy...who cares, right?) but then Rue gets killed cleanly with a spear, and there's a fucking revolution. I'm just calling out double standards here that should not exist. Either everyone should get shit on, or no one should. Either all races (white and otherwise) get shit on, or none should. Either all religions (Christian and otherwise) should get shit on, or none should. Either both genders should get shit on, or neither should. That is my thesis here.

Which leads me (and I'm sorry to go on and on here, but I feel I have to voice all of this) to the whole majority identities thing that I mentioned in this story with religion. I will say that I support female empowerment, and racial minority empowerment, and empowerment of those in other faiths. That said, I cannot condone that Bendis made Christian extremists the next enemy du jour following BOTA. Again, if it were members of any other major faith, Marvel Headquarters would not be standing today; it would be razed to the fucking ground. Especially when, as I said in the story above, Kitty has this eloquent tale of oppression/discrimination against Jews, in an earlier ANXM issue, and I completely support the empowerment of Jewish individuals myself...but then...after BOTA, what do we get? Jesus freaks. It's bullshit.

One other thing on Collins also, or related to the topic; unlike Collins, who panders left and right, I'm not pandering to ANYONE, at least not any popular groups that are ordinarily pandered to in fiction. It wasn't my aim to pander in writing Honeymars; I called things like I saw it then, and I'm doing the same now. With Honeymars, I implicitly called out Morrison on his not giving Jean enough power, and making her too passive; here, in this story, I'm going to the other extreme and calling Bendis out on making Jean too aggressive and, in fact, too abusive. (And again, for the record, I think he makes Hope FAR too abusive/carte-blanchily entitled to the point of insufferability, and Kitty too godmodey/beyond reproach, either of which IMO makes any character unbearable not matter what the gender, race, religion, or other classification). I call it like I see it; I'm not writing on this site to please anyone.

I still want to say more, but I need to pace this out a bit as I have a lot going on otherwise. I will just say for now that, although I support the empowerment of all demographics in terms of race, religion, gender, and otherwise, I am TIRED, as a white male Christian, of having all those aspects of my identity shit on in the name of empowerment of those demographics. Whites and/or males and/or Christians do not have to be belittled in the name of the empowerment of others. I have not seen the film yet, but I have read that the Pixar film Brave is the same way, in which males are made to look like assholes in the name of Merida's empowerment. Also, I have not seen/read Catching Fire yet, but as far as I'm concerned, I don't need to do so because I can judge Hunger Games' first installment on its own merits in terms of my argument here. Bottom line here, I understand the members of minority groups in question have been oppressed in the past; it doesn't make it right to shit on majority identities through fiction, and I'm fucking tired of it. Two wrongs, again, do not make a right, and I'm sorry if that sounds cliche, but it doesn't make it any less true.

To finish, at least for now, with one more small contrast: here in the US, there was a controversy wherein a young white male employee was fired and sued for broadcasting over a PA system at a Wal-Mart (I'm almost certain it was a Wal-Mart) the statement, "Will all black people please leave the store." He was a fucking asshole to do that, and he did it because he thought it was funny-while everyone else, myself included, knew that it was not funny. It made national news, I believe. Meanwhile: I have participated in an onstage storytelling kind of thing in a nearby city, and there is a small feature wherein people in the audience can write in a short "ten word story" to sort of participate in the activity. The theme of the night for storytelling was "Around the World," and stories were told about travels all around. Many of the participants onstage telling stories where white males. One person in the audience wrote, as his "ten word story," the derogatory and condescending statement, "All these white boys talking about traveling." But that's rip-roaringly hilarious, right?

It's all bullshit (as in "objectionable"), in my opinion, it's double standards up the ass, and I'm tired of it all. I may add even more here a bit later, or work in some more rant to what has been written above; as such, I may not completely be done here yet, but if you'd like to comment, you can certainly PM or just review on here. I'm not going to moderate reviews, either (I may peacefully/nonaggressively counterargue you, though, on here). If you agree with me here, then great, and thank you. If you disagree with me, then that's fair, of course. If you have no opinion, that's okay, of course. But, regardless of your opinion: if you're sitting there reading this and smirking like a dipshit and not taking me seriously, because of my own demographic, then you can go to hell.

Because "All these white Christian boys talking about balance between demographics in fiction," right?


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